


Reunion (aka Hajime talks to himself and the living deceased)

by dumbhoneybee



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Cheek Kisses, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Idiots in Love, M/M, Platonic Pekomaeda, Post-Canon, Reunions, Spoilers, Talking To Dead People, author is demi and bad at writing physical intimacy, everyone after chihiro appears for like a second, hinata thinks komaeda's dead, no beta we die like men, plot is swiss cheese, too tired to edit, why is that a tag, would be multiple chapters but it wasnt the vibe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27493648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbhoneybee/pseuds/dumbhoneybee
Summary: After losing two people he cared about in one trial, Hinata decides that talking to himself is a healthy way to cope.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito & Pekoyama Peko
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Reunion (aka Hajime talks to himself and the living deceased)

**Author's Note:**

> god,,,,, please ignore the plot,,,,, i just wanted them to be together again,,,, but ignore the holes and enjoy these two dorks  
> 

Hajime Hinata had just lost the two most important people in his life.

Flopping down onto the bed in his cottage, blankets and pillows didn't seem to comfort him at all. He laid there for a long time, the sound of crickets chirping floating in from his open window. After a chill draft sent shivers up his spine, he resentfully scooted to the end of his bed, sitting next to the window. He had intended to close it, but couldn't seem to find the motivation to stand up and push down the frame, and the night sky invited him to stare at it.

Having spent his entire life in bustling cities, the stars scattered above him like a handful of sand stunned him. Millions of them were scattered, and staring up lazily, elbow propped onto the window frame, he allowed his mind to wander.

He wanted nothing more than to apologize to Nanami. She was the only one among them who wasn't a traitor, yet she died because of her innocence. She had been executed brutally. And she didn't even kill anyone, not intentionally. Happier memories faded in before he could overthink anything. Hinata thought back to hanging out with her. She always had her face on a screen, beeping away determinedly. But she was always kind, and gave the best advice. Whenever Hinata almost lost his cool, Nanami was like an older sister, coming to correct his ways with a friendly firmness.

And even though it was most likely because of Hinata, she acted kind towards Komaeda when others openly ridiculed him.

Komaeda flooded into his memories now.

Waking up on the beach, with no memories of his talent and no idea what they were doing there, Komaeda had been a comforting presence. Before the first trial’s climax, Hinata had even considered him to be the most trustworthy person on the island.

But upon learning what Komaeda had tried to do, the camaraderie had morphed into morbid fascination. Without realizing it, Hinata inspected every little thing the other boy did. Every dramatic flair of the hand, how his eyes glazed over when he found something uninteresting, even the way his brow furrowed when he read a book, still managing to look the most peaceful while doing so.

He shut his eyes. He had managed to convince himself at the time that he was just analyzing his actions so that he could understand how his head worked, so that if he killed someone, Hinata would be able to piece together it was him. But upon seeing his dead body, music blaring in the background almost deafening as he took in the mutilated corpse, the feeling in his chest was too bitter, too deep and heavy to be based solely on suspicion.

He wanted to know him, to know what he was thinking. Komaeda was the biggest mystery on this island, of course, he was drawn to him because of that. He was also extremely good looking, despite being sickly. But any attraction or feelings of attachment had to be a result of him succumbing to his curiosity and spending time with him. But as he let his mind wander, he focused on the stars more. The milky way was visible from here. As he kept looking, a ridiculous thought crossed his mind. But as with most ridiculous things, Hinata decided to indulge.  
“Komaeda,” His voice was trembling, and his face turned a bit red as the realization of what he was doing came crashing down on him, and looked down to the pool in front of his cottage. He was sure he was going crazy. But damn, if he wasn't stubborn, he wasn't Hajime Hinata. “Komaeda.” Good, more confidence this time. “You… tried really hard, didn't you?” He leaned further down on the windowsill. Why on Earth was he doing this, speaking as if Komaeda’s voice would come down from the stars. He knew it wouldn’t. He was too deep now, though. “I mean, you tried to get us killed, but nonetheless. You really threw us through a loop, we almost failed the trial. No one ever gives you credit to how smart your whole plot was.” He paused and looked back up to the sky. “You looked… like you were in so much pain.” Flashbacks of his mouth being open behind the tape, most likely from trying to scream. The music blaring to hide the noise. The dozens of wounds that had littered his body. “Really, that must've been an awful way to go. I… really wish you didn't have to die like that. Or at all I guess. Yeah, I wish you could have stuck around. Even though I was just annoyed at you half the time.”

His heart stung again. He’d been pretty awful to Komaeda after the first trial, hadn't he? Giving only the bare amount of attention other than psychoanalyzing him from a distance and grilling him to the point of uncomfortableness in both the trials and his free time. Somewhere along the line he had been dehumanized, turned into something to be examined. Komaeda obviously had some stuff going on, stuff he had admitted and stuff he had not. Hinata adjusted his weight on the edge of his bed.

“I guess I’m sorry about that too. You have problems, but shouldn't be antagonized because of that. You even said to Hanamura that you'd be the antagonist for us but… I don't think you ever actually wanted that.” He tilted his head slightly as if he were questioning an actual person rather than empty space.

“You’re… you used to be.... No, you are a complicated person, and I could've been a bit more patient, waited for you to reveal things yourself. Waited for you to open up, maybe we could've been a bit closer.” He scratched the back of his head. “...A lot closer. Maybe.” He ignored the heat in his face and laughed curtly. “I'm talking to the god damned abyss pretending it's some way of coping with losing… loved ones.” Again, he ignored the words at the tip of his tongue. “Hey, Komaeda.” He could swear the sky was staring back intently, waiting for him to speak. “Promise, that if we meet in another life, maybe we'll start off on the right foot. And we'll be better.”

He fell asleep waiting for a response.

But, somewhere, he had been heard.

Komaeda had woken from his coma after about 5 months of unconsciousness. The pain seared through each of his muscles, and he had stomach cramps for weeks. But soon, his wrist that had seemed frail enough to snap at any amount of pressure now only seemed frail enough to snap if you were to hold it a bit tighter than you should. His left hand was a stub until further notice, due to Junko’s hand getting so disgusting he was forced to have it removed, and he wasn't in too much of a rush for a prosthetic. His roots had started turning a very pink-brown, thanks to lots of medicine and treatments from the ultimate nurse.

He’d become more placid now. His bouts of hope and despair became less and less frequent, and less intense (due to the lack of need for a stepping stool.). But the hospital wing in the Future Foundation building was sterilized from floor to ceiling, and boring, to say the least, so he often tried hobbies with other patients in the hospital. A girl called Yonaga (she was in for frequent severe neck pains, caused by an obsessive stalker attacking her and a friend.) introduced him to painting, and even though he was barely adequate enough to make a passing resemblance to anything at first, he took great joy in it.

Two months later, he was allowed to explore the rest of the building. Most were still wary of his presence as he hobbled around curiously, IV dragging behind him, but he decided to ignore the obvious glances in his direction. Komaeda learned to ignore the eyes, instead focusing on his adventure. While he peered into a more isolated hallway, a hand on his shoulder made him jump.

Ah, Pekoyama. Hello.” The woman gave him a small smile as a greeting, before looking down the hall we was about to enter. “Komaeda, the monitor room is down there.” Komaeda turned his body fully towards her now. “The monitor room? You mean…” He tensed. “They're still in there?” She nodded slowly. “I’m not entirely sure how. Fujisaki explained in his own Fujisaki way, but I figure it's better for you to ask him yourself.” She gave him a chaste pat on the arm as encouragement before silently walking away, twin braids remaining as stiff as her posture as she moved.

Komaeda turned his attention back to the hall. Taking a deep breath, he started to walk towards the door at the end of it. His shuffling footsteps echoed, the complimentary slippers were given to him that were a size too small and barely staying on. It seemed much more ominous than it actually was, a light suddenly flickering in front of the door startled him, taking a moment to calm his nerves before proceeding.

The door was large, metal, and heavy looking. Thick bolts were around the edge and a keypad and hand scanner off to the left. He raised a brow at this before knocking gently on the door. A loud crash sounded inside, along with shuffling and cursing. The door flung open, and Komaeda barely missed being hit, narrowly dodging the (apparently not made out of real) metal. And there Fujisaki stood, barely coming up to Komaeda’s chest. His suit was a bit wrinkled, and his hands barely showed past the sleeves. He stared for a moment, doe-eyed, before speaking.

“Oh. Komaeda, hey.” Komaeda smiled softly. Fujisaki tended to be timid around him, probably because of what he'd seen in the Neo World program. It's best for him to be as warm and friendly as possible to those who felt that way. “Hello, Fujisaki. Are you busy?” He tilted a bit to glance inside the room. A large screen was visible, along with a few other small others surrounding it. Instant food and coffee mugs were littered around the place, but it smelled suspiciously clean despite it.

“Uh, no, what's up?” He stepped out of the room, still only leaving the door a bit cracked behind him. Komaeda straightened as best he could.

“I heard from Pekoyama that people are still in the game, even though to my knowledge it's been seven months since Nanami died. Shouldn't they be out by now?"

Fujisaki’s eyes shimmered. Komaeda was in for a very long explanation.

“Technically, yes, but in the Neo World program, time passes a bit slower. An hour there is a little less than a month for us! And nights are like, way, way longer than they are here. Think the opposite of Minecraft.” Komaeda blinked. “Or… opposite Skyrim?” Komaeda continued his silent confusion. “No? Nothing? Nevermind, just, it's a mechanic so that your lovely technician here can take a break while all of the Jabberwock Island residents sleep. We can still view the events in real-time, thou-”

“Komaeda,”

They were both silent after Fujisaki was cut off. That was Hinata’s voice, right? Why was he saying his name? Wasn't Komaeda dead in the game? It was Fujisaki’s turn to blink in amazement. “Is that-”

“Komaeda.”

Again. There was no denying it, Hinata was saying his name as if he was still there. Fujisaki pulled the door open to squint at the computer screen. “Uh, Fujisaki, do you mind if I come in?” He gave an idle nod and opened the door fully, allowing Komaeda to quickly make his way in before closing it. Fujisaki took a pen in his left hand and tapped at a notepad.

“This is odd, you should be dead to him. What on Ear-”

“You… tried really hard, didn't you?”

He was cut off again, and he scowled. “This guy, how does he know exactly when to cut me off?”

Hinata looked directly to where the camera was placed (drones were a fairly common use of surveillance on the island). And then he started talking to Komaeda. Directly to him. He couldn't possibly know, even though he used the present tense while describing him. After a minute into his tragically one-sided conversation, Fujisaki seemed to realize the tone of it, and left Komaeda alone in the room with the screens. Every word he spoke dug a hole in Komaeda’s chest, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to comfort him, to squeeze him to prove that he's alive and ok. But he could only watch, tearing up at the apologies, laughing at the shyness, and covering his face at some of the implications.

But one promise caught his attention.

“Hey, Komaeda.” His breath caught. Komaeda focused as much as he could onto Hinata’s eyes, desperately trying to let him know he was listening. “Promise, that if we meet in another life, maybe we'll start off on the right foot. And we'll be better.”

His heart was racing now. If we meet in another life. “Hinata-kun, what if we meet in this life?” He pulled a hand up, grasping at the side of the screen with his good hand, as if it were the boy and not just a digital version. “Hinata-kun, if we meet again in this life will you say that again? Because I promise you. We’ll start again. On… on the right foot.” Tears flowed down his cheek slowly as Hinata fell asleep pressed against the windowsill. The simulation seemed to have slowed down now, his chest rising and falling slow enough that he almost appeared to not be breathing at all. Komaeda slumped into the chair, the slow-motion seemingly having affected him as well. He let the tears roll down his cheeks, not bothering to wipe them.

Fujisaki came in when he heard the silence. “Hey,” He tapped Komaeda gently. “It's nighttime for them now. Nothing of interest will happen till they wake up.” He checked his watch. “You should probably call it quits now as wel-” Komaeda stood suddenly from the chair and grabbed Fujisaki’s wrist with a weird amount of strength.

“You have to let them out.”

Fujisaki stuttered for a moment

“Uh- Komaeda, the game is pretty much done, but it's best to wait a bit before letting them out-” Komaeda sharpened his glare. “Fujisaki, they've already been in that hell long enough, don't you think?”

“Well, the program will glitch with such a sudden-”

“Fujisaki.”

“I could get them out complication free in about a mont-”

“Chihiro Fujisaki.”

He visibly gulped. “I’ll uh, have them out in an hour?” He suggested. Komaeda squeezed his wrist once before letting go. “Thank you.” He bowed his head quickly before exiting the room.

The world around him was glitching.

Nanami had just appeared before him, completely fine and un-squished. Holding a completely normal conversation, except for the… glitching.

But hope twisted inside of him. If Nanami’s here… maybe...

He quickly went around the island, bumping into Tanaka. Again, 100% fine. Hinata let himself think that Komaeda could have heard him last night. But a sick feeling inside of him grew as the world around him was pixelated in spots and completely blank in others. Calling out his name until his throat went dry, he sat defeated in front of Monokuma Rock. And before he knew what had happened, their real final trial had begun.

He gasped for air as he came into consciousness. Wires and IVs jutted out of both arms, and his body felt like he hadn't moved it in years. His fingers flexed stiffly before his eyes even opened. But a click that sounded suspiciously like a lock unlocking stirred him enough to become fully conscious. The semi-transparent lid of his pod raised slowly, as a short man shoved it open. Said man looked down at Hinata with grinning eyes. “...Fujisaki-san?”

He laughed. “Good morning Hinata. Are you feeling alright? I wasn't planning on waking you up so quickly.”

Hinata rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I kind of freaked out when the world started glitching. Did something go wrong?”

Fujisaki covered his mouth, trying to muffle a snicker as he moved to release the others. “Ah, no. Someone just got impatient and wanted to see you.” He paused in front of Souda’s pod. “Actually… Komaeda dropped by not too long ago. He was just planning to drop by and ask a question but…” He grinned and unlocked Souda’s pod. “He heard someone calling his name and his visit was extended.”

Hinata’s blood ran cold. “Wait. He… heard his name?” Fujisaki beamed at him. “Among other things.” Souda was sitting up now, and Fujisaki started a conversation with him now, leaving Hinata to stew in whatever the hell had just happened. Komaeda had heard him. All of it. Most likely including Hinata’s more… transparent word choices. He tumbled out of the pod clumsily, tripping over the side and a few wires all while the slowly growing peanut gallery snickered. Once he gained his balance, he turned to Fujisaki. “Where's Komaeda’s room?”

Fujisaki smirked. “Room 110, floor 37 in the hospital wing. He’ll probably be waiting there.” Hinata gave a curt nod and began exiting the room. Before he could exit, Fujisaki grabbed his wrist. Hinata cocked an eyebrow and halted. “Hinata… he looks a little…” He bit his lip. “Different. Just prepare yourself for the worst, ok?”

Thoughts swarmed Hinata’s mind. What did that mean? He speed-walked down the hallway as he worried over what he'd been told. Did something happen? Maybe his death in the game left permanent damage? A hole in his stomach, maybe? No, that would be impossible. He dismissed the patients waving to him. Could it be something to do with his health? Had he lost his hair to the chemotherapy meds? That seemed highly likely, but not important enough for Fujisaki to mention so ominously.

A heavy cloud had surrounded him by the time he was outside of Komaeda’s door. Whoever was inside knew more than Hinata had ever thought he could know. That could be what he wanted the entire time, for him to know without the anxiety of saying it directly to him. He placed his hand on the door for a moment, almost trying to read the mood inside the room, even though he already knew that Komaeda was probably so anxiety-ridden he would be pacing the room and muttering. He smiled at the thought, and maybe it was the promise of familiarity that caused him to knock.

He knocked three times before he got any sign of life inside of the room. A rustling of papers was heard inside, as well as a chorus of ‘Sorry, sorry, hold on a moment,’. He felt a warmth in his chest at the familiar voice. Liquid courage appearing in his veins, he reached for the knob and turned the door open.

“Ah!” Hinata froze completely stiff. Komaeda stood in front of his room's window, clutching a few large papers and a glass of muddy water in his arms. The light behind him seemed to make him glow. And he was a bit blurry. Was the sun supposed to do that? Oh. No, Hinata was just tearing up. Komaeda seemed to break out of his staring contest with the other and haphazardly set the art supplies on his desk. “Hinata-kun, hi, you're here, hold on,” Now Hinata was letting the tears fall, stinging and warm. But he couldn't muster the energy to move his hands. Soon enough his chin was being cradled with Komaeda’s slim hand, thumb wiping away what it could. “I-” Hinata choked. “I thought you were dead. Oh my god. I thought you died, Komaeda.” Komaeda gave a rare genuine smile. “Yeah, I thought I was7 too.”

Hinata gave a bitter laugh before wrapping himself into the taller man. He didn't seem to grow while Hinata was still in the game, so he only had a few centimeters, excluding his mountain of hair. But this made Hinata remember what Fujisaki said. He pushed away lightly to look into Komaeda’s face, using all his strength to not overthink the inch of distance between them.

“Fujisaki-san said you were different, but honestly,” He lightly ruffled at the coppery roots. “You just look healthier.”

Understatement of the century. Komaeda was less skinny, a bit tanner, and seemed to be healthier mentally too. He had his arms wrapped loosely around Hinata’s back, when in the game, any physical contact made him spiral into a tangent. But now, his right hand sat at the small of Hinata’s back, and his left-

His… left?

HInata’s gaze almost pierced through Komaeda’s skull. “Komaeda. What happened to…” He stopped seeing Komaeda’s eyes darken slightly. He sighed. “That's probably what Fujisaki meant.” He stepped away and averted his eyes. “Just… don't freak out too much.” Hinata nodded. The hand around his waist slipped away, a purplish bruise near his inner elbow the only thing sticking out, but that was most likely from an IV. But then.

Komaeda pulled away his left. Or what would be left of his left. But there was nothing there.. Hinata sucked in a breath.

“Komaeda… God, what happened? Didn't you just stab your hand?” He twirled a hair thoughtfully. “Well. I… might have cut my hand off and replaced it with Junko’s. For reasons... I don't quite want to say. They had to cut that one off when it started rotting.

Now it was Hinata’s turn to blink stupidly. “I don't think I can ever understand you.” He wrapped a hand around Komaedas elbow and kept his grip tight. “But… do you mind if I try?” Nagito smiled.

“I don't mind.”

Hinata slowly pulled him back into a hug, and kept his face buried into the crook of Komaeda’s neck.

“Hey, Komaeda?”

“Mm?”

“Could I… make you a hand? I completely understand if you don't want one, or if you don't want one from me, but I’m pretty sure I have a talent for it-”

“Hinata-kun.” Komaeda cut him off. He pulled away, and their noses bumped. “I would be honored.” Hinata forced a smile down. “I’ll… have it done for you.” He pressed a fast peck onto the pale cheek in front of him and buried himself back into Komaeda’s neck. He flushed for a moment before returning the gesture and leaned into Hinata a little more.

“Thank you, Hinata-kun.”

**Author's Note:**

> i read a fic with platonic ko and pekoyama ONCE and now im obsessed. i will never stop now. but ty for reading, and feel free to comment about how disastrous the plot is, thx <3


End file.
